


someone to stay

by sapphicreputation



Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: F/F, Slow Burn, art teacher!chloe, beca is besties with taylor swift and im right for that, coffee shop AU, eventual bechloe, everyones gonna be happy eventually, producer!beca, trust the process
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-15 10:56:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 14,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29807370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sapphicreputation/pseuds/sapphicreputation
Summary: A chance meeting may just be the solution Beca needs to finally find her footing in the vast expanse of New York City. Chloe is somehow brand new yet familiar all at once, their spark providing an anchor both women desperately needed.orBeca and Chloe meet by chance at a coffee shop and everything changes!
Relationships: Chloe Beale & Beca Mitchell, Chloe Beale/Beca Mitchell
Comments: 4
Kudos: 54





	1. fate laid a hand

**Author's Note:**

> it's 2021 and after years of silently appreciating the copious amounts of talent in the bechloe fandom, i've finally decided to try my hand at writing something of my own! i hope you guys like <3

Today was rare in its nature - Beca found herself with no obligations to anyone but herself. A scarce occurrence in her life, as of late. Despite her being content in doing nothing with her day, save for catching up on occasional work emails and ordering food, she could never quite get her mind to settle. At least, never enough to allow her to submerge in the freedom the day was promising.

It was stupid, Beca thought, to feel as overwhelmed as she did currently. She’d landed the deal of her dreams this last month, helping to produce Taylor Swift’s latest album. She’d been sought out by her team personally. Taylor’s management practically threw numbers on cheques at her if it meant she’d agree to work on the record. She’d agreed without so much as a second thought. Working with someone as prolific as Taylor Swift was a huge leap in her career, Beca knew that. Though, that wasn’t what rendered the decision a no brainer. Rather, Beca would have, and _did_ leap at the chance to work with someone she’s looked up to for as long as she could remember. Even in the depths of her angst ridden teenage years, Taylor’s music had been a solace for Beca. Helped her feel seen at times where she was sure if she disappeared tomorrow, no one would notice, save for her mother. So, the project became a personal labour of love.

Beca had learnt early on that Taylor had no plans of a full album cycle; she was producing this record simply because she wanted to. The success of it was irrelevant in Taylor’s eyes, as long as it encapsulated the story she wanted to convey. Upon their first meeting, Taylor admitted to Beca that her record label wasn't entirely aware of the timeline for this record. They knew she wanted to release it _soon_ , but their definition of soon varied differently from hers. She wanted _folklore_ to go out into the world in as little as two months time. It was something Taylor just felt as though she needed to write - needed to share with the fans that held onto every lyric she created. As such, Beca knew this was going to be a stressful time ahead. She was all in, however, and was sure to make that abundantly clear from the beginning. She assured Taylor that whatever she needed Beca to do, she’d do it. Taylor had simply laughed and told her that as long as she brought the magic into the studio she knew she was capable of, she couldn’t ask for anything more. 

Desperate to take advantage of the full day of freedom, Beca sought to fight through the nervous energy and physical jitters that attempted to take over. Having forced herself out of bed, she padded over to the large floor to ceiling window that adorned a wall of her bedroom, taking great joy in drawing back the curtains and allowing the natural light of the morning to pour in. She took a minute to appreciate the vast expanse of Manhattan that lay before her. Though her break into the music industry had only been two years prior, her success had garnered her financially secure enough to afford a modest apartment in the heart of Manhattan. Beca still had to pinch herself from time to time, just to convince herself this really was her reality. 

Somewhere between showering, making breakfast and quickly throwing a glance toward her work email inbox, the notion of visiting Brooklyn found its way into her train of thought. Beca hadn’t been in god knows how long, and she missed it. The flea markets housed in the city were her favourite - no two shops were the same, each offering something completely unique. There was so much to behold there, though it never felt intimidating. She could happily lose herself for hours in the quaint environments of the markets, fawning over the various offerings of each stall. She figured this could be a perfect break from the often overwhelming ebb and flow she’d fallen into the last few months in Manhattan. It wasn’t that she didn’t appreciate her job, rather, she’d never been the best at taking care of herself. Sometimes Beca got burnt out, and she was still navigating on how to combat the feelings that came with such states. 

The journey from her apartment complex to her destination wasn’t a long one - half an hour navigating through the subway system had her landed in Green Point. Though the heat of the spring sunshine had made it as uncomfortable as Beca predicted it would be, and she savoured the air conditioning blasting from various shops on her walk. She wandered aimlessly for a while, before the area began to feel familiar. She headed toward a familiar thrift store, Mother of Junk. It was a place she and Stacie could spend hours in, both daring each other to find the most questionable items throughout the vast expanse of the high rise walls and mismatched aisles. Beca loved spaces like these - places where everything inside had a story. She often searched for vinyl records in shops such as this, eager to find sounds lost to the passing of time. The entrance of the shop was more a hole in the wall than a means of structure - the garage shutter lifted to the top, music echoing from within. Beca headed straight for the wall featuring an array of vintage sconces, losing herself in the memory of the day she and Stacie had found the ugliest wall hangings the shop had to offer, and bought both their verdicts home. Both of which still hung proudly in their living area. 

The day began to run away from Beca once she’d entered the store; she was content in simply drifting through the floor space, savouring the eclectic mix of items that lay ahead. The beat of a song she’d been working on during her down time played in her head, as though the shop was drawing out inspiration of its own. Beca savoured the way in which these sort of environments seemed to bring together even the most frustrating of song arrangements for her - as though the stories held within the four walls were speaking to her, guiding her brain to the perfect compositions that she’d chastise herself for not realising sooner. 

An hour passed before Beca finally dragged herself away from the shop, a couple of vinyl records now in hand. She was feeling significantly more inspired than she had been prior to entering, and revelled in the feeling. The day was still young; time only just trickling toward two-thirty in the afternoon. Beca decided this was as good a time as any to find somewhere to rest her feet for a while, content to wander until she found somewhere that stood out. 

Eventually, she found herself outside a quaint looking coffee shop. Everything about the establishment was inviting; the smell floating from the coffee grinder, the whirls of the machines grinding the beans, the soft music that accompanied the mindless chatter throughout the space. It was small enough that Beca needn’t feel self conscious about sitting alone, but big enough that she wouldn’t feel closed in. It was this midsection of the day Beca adored most - the time she deemed make or break. It was during these hours that she’d be hours deep into losing herself within the four walls of the studio, head and heart focused solely on whatever project she was embarking on next. Similarly, it was at this time during her rare free days that she’d decide whether to commit to meeting friends in the city, or staying in to binge something on Netflix. It was the time of day where she felt like she could find a purpose for herself, regardless of how small. 

In her place of work, Beca was very much a big fish in a small pond, despite the fact she was only two years into her career. Outside the comfort of the studio however, she was all too aware of how small she was in a place as vast as New York. She’d yet to find her confidence here, still searching for how exactly she fit into the workings of the city. It was because of this lack of confidence that she often faltered when doing things she knew she’d enjoyed, due to the fact she’d do them alone.

It wasn’t that she objected toward her own company - quite the opposite in fact. Beca was quite content spending long stretches with just herself for company. The week following wrapping a project, she’d hide herself away in her apartment, opting to catch up on the weeks of sleep she’d missed in favour of being at artists every beck and call. This often meant pulling ridiculous hours, needing to be ready to pounce whenever inspiration hit. Yet, the small things such as getting coffee by herself, or going out for lunch on her own filled her with dread. In these types of situations, she became hyper-aware of herself; how she carried herself, how she may look to people passing in the street. It was an irrational set of worries, Beca knew. Though, she was yet to find a way to shake them. 

_Gotta start somewhere,_ Beca thought to herself, as she opted to face her fears and embark on a solo coffee date. The shop’s interior was rustic - bare brick adorned three of the walls, with the back wall being a feature of sorts. The wooden palettes that spanned the length of the back wall were painted an array of colours; tints of yellows, greens and oranges. It was loud, but it worked incredibly. Beca stopped to take in the rest of the shop; tables were laid throughout the shop's floor, most of them occupied by couples or families clearly needing a caffeine pit stop as much as Beca did right now. The daylight filtering in from the shop’s front window hit the array of suncatchers hung throughout, painting the brick work with an array of rainbows. It was inviting as it was familiar - somewhere Beca really needed to make a mental note of, because it was somewhere she’d certainly want to frequent.

After taking a beat to collect herself, determined not to let her anxieties overwhelm her, she headed toward the order point. The barista behind the bar was friendly - he shot her a welcoming smile, and asked how her day was going after she’d ordered. It made Beca smile, genuinely. The instances where people took interest in her day beyond where she was at with work or whether she’d grab milk on her way home because Stacie was seemingly incapable of getting groceries as and when they needed them were few and far between. She took herself to the collection point, gratefully taking her iced latte from the hands of the server who bidded her a good day. She flashed both workers behind the counter a warm smile before turning on her heels, deciding where the best place to sit for an hour or two could be. 

The shop floor remained as lively as it’d been when she’d first entered, and Beca once more felt that prickly heat of anxiety begin to climb the back of her neck. There was a part of her that wanted to simply walk out the door of the shop and continue wandering aimlessly through Brooklyn. Only, her feet were sore, and she desperately wanted to prove to herself that she could do this. Moving to the counter that held the sugar and milk pourers, the brunette grabbed a few napkins from the dispenser, desperate to busy herself as a means of hoarding off the anxiety that was threatening to spill over. She took a moment to scan the expanse of the tables in front of her - all seemingly occupied. It was then Beca knew that she had two options - she could either walk out the door and save facing her fear for another day, or she could ask a stranger if they’d mind if she shared a table with them. Against every irrationality in her brain screaming for her to pick the former, she decided this was the epitome of the ‘twenty seconds of courage’ mantra she’d instilled in herself from the first time she’d watched _We Bought A Zoo._

Her eyes drifted naturally to the shop’s front window once more, more specifically to the redhead that occupied the table beside it. She looked to be around Beca’s age, perhaps a year or two older. Beca studied her for a moment; the way her head bopped softly in time to what Beca assumed was a beat playing through her headphones. The woman seemed to drift between looking out the window, and drawing in the sketch book in front of her. Beca rolled her eyes, internally scoffing at the fact she felt like she was setting herself up to enter one of those movie moments - where two strangers meet, and suddenly the rest becomes history. Thankfully, Beca had never been one to buy into such hopeless romantic tropes, and she knew better than to expect any such luck to come her way. Regardless, she willed herself forward, suddenly finding herself in front of the woman she’d spent the last five minutes staring at. Sizing her up - debating whether she struck Beca as someone that’d gladly share their table, or simply move to turn her music up louder as a silent dismissal of Beca’s presence. 

✢✢

Today was a rare day for Chloe; it was a day in which she had seemingly nothing to do, and nowhere to be. Between her busy teaching schedule, her ever buzzing social life and her determination to set aside at least two evenings a week to indulge in self-care downtime for herself, her diary always presented with little room to breathe. Today though, was hers for the making. She was alone, with no obligations, and an entire day at her fingertips. As such, she revelled in the chance to sleep in until ten, and only got out of bed when she was sure her bladder would burst if she didn’t. The remainder of her morning was easy; she opened every available window in her apartment, always desperate to have as much natural light in as possible.

Sauntering through the open space of her living room, she was sure to have her upbeat Spotify playlist shuffled, dancing along to whichever beat came on next. It was the small joys that Chloe savoured the most. The feeling of crisp Brooklyn air on her skin as she danced freely through her living room without a care in the world. Despite Aubrey being away for Spring Break, something about needing to be as far from the school they both taught at as possible, her presence remained felt throughout the living space they shared. She’d left Chloe notes to remind her to get fresh bread, and ensure she’d fed the cat that Aubrey swore she’d never love the day Chloe had brought it home. 

✢

_The fact their apartment lease stated no pets were allowed was irrelevant, because Chloe had a habit of falling in love fast, and falling hard. As such, it was no surprise to Aubrey that Chloe had all but stomped her feet when she’d come home one night with the abandoned cat nestled safely in her arms, stating they had to keep it because it had nowhere else to go. After ten minutes of incessant back and forth that Aubrey knew she was destined to lose from the moment Chloe and cat had stepped through the door, she’d reluctantly agreed. Though not without some ground rules; she was not financially nor emotionally responsible for it, and Chloe needed to take it to the vets as soon as possible to check it wasn’t carrying diseases._

_Of course, Goose, named after none other than Captain Marvel’s feline slash flerken friend that Chloe was besotted with, passed his vet check up with flying colours. He had no infectious diseases as Aubrey had made a point of checking for, was free from fleas and only slightly underweight. The vet believed whoever had owned him previously hadn’t long left him, and he was lucky that Chloe found him when she did. Chloe loved him to an extent that almost felt too big for her body - he curled up at her feet every evening she’d come home from a long day at work, would make a point of climbing onto the other side of her spacious queen bed each night, and was always sauntering around the kitchen whenever the redhead would cook a meal, silently willing her to save him some scraps. Of course, he’d taken a while longer to warm up to Aubrey. It was as though they had a mutual dislike for each other - neither appreciating the other being in the space they both claimed as theirs. They’d figured out their differences after a month or so, thanks to Chloe begging Aubrey to make an effort with him._

_‘He’s a cat Chloe, I hardly think it makes a difference whether he likes me or not.’_

_‘Of course it does, Bree! He’s my family just as much as you are, so I’m asking nicely for you to make an effort to win him over. Here, just give him this,’ Chloe grabbed some leftover chicken out the fridge, and all but threw it at Aubrey. Goose’s attention had pricked immediately, and he sauntered curiously over toward the blonde. Following his lead, Aubrey kneeled and offered the chicken toward the cat, palm open - inviting him into her space. From then, they’d gotten on exceptionally well. The nights in which Chloe would come home to the sight of Aubrey on the couch, watching something, whilst Goose curled up in the blanket at her feet made her heart soar. This really was her family laid out in front of her._

✢

Chloe settled at the desk in her room for a while, content to lose herself in a book for a while. Whilst she adored teaching art to kids who actually wanted to learn and master the field, there was something so comforting to her about losing herself in the depths of the latest novel she picked up. Her latest title to sink into was _The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo_ , a title that had several of her peers crying by the end. The ability to evoke emotions through words on page fascinated her - she admired the way writers seemed to be able to dive into the darkest crevices of readers’ brains, and make them feel seen in ways they perhaps didn’t always realise they needed to. Of course, there were times where Chloe sifted through easy read novels, just wanting something that could help switch her brain off.

Mostly, she enjoyed books that’d leave her pondering the bigger pictures; who she was, how she fit into the world, maybe even as far as whether she’d be capable of creating a piece of art in literary form one day. She’d taken a few Literature classes in college, and her grades were good throughout them. Chloe knew her passion lay in art as a visual medium, but she held a gracious appreciation for the way authors were able to make her feel a range of emotions in the space of just a few chapters. 

It wasn’t until her stomach began grumbling incessantly did she tear herself away from the quietness of losing herself in the world she was reading of. She dog-eared the page she’d gotten to, before putting the book back on a stack of notebooks atop her desk. She hadn’t realised how long she’d been sat in one position, and was grateful for the way her joints audibly cracked as she stretched. The afternoon settled nicely around her; the sun was shining, and the air outside was inviting. Never one to waste a moment, Chloe decided today would be spent wandering. Sure, she’d seen the tourist spots of New York City at multiple opportunities. Had spent enough evenings drunk on adrenaline and aperol in Times Square with her friends, taking in the sights until she was sure she was dreaming. Somehow, she was yet to become acquainted with her local area. The bustling neighbourhood she was situated in was something Chloe continually shrugged off at seeing when she had time. Thankfully, today she had bountiful amounts of such. 

After changing into a pair of comfortable jeans, paired together with a simple, loose fitting v-neck shirt and a faux leather jacket, Chloe headed out. Not before giving Goose a sufficient amount of love prior to her departure, of course. She promised him she’d be back soon, and that he was in charge in her absence. Of course, Chloe knew he couldn’t understand a word of what she was saying, but it made her heart sing knowing he’d still be equally as happy when she returned. 

There was no solid destination in mind - Chloe was perfectly content wandering, seeing wherever it was her feet decided to lead her. She took the time to truly take in her surroundings, mentally noting that she needed to do this with Aubrey one day soon. They’d lived in their current apartment for just shy of three years, and Chloe wasn’t sure either of them could name any local hotspots outside of their favourite takeout. It wasn’t intentional, the lack of engagement with her local area. Just, Chloe always found herself so _busy._ Her weekdays were taken over by work; commuting forty five minutes each way, staying late to finalise lesson plans, parent-teacher conferences, that by the time she finally stepped through the door most nights, the only place she wanted to be was her bed.

On weekends, her and Aubrey usually opted to spend days together, perfectly content to spend the afternoon alternating between lounging and marking student assignments. Sometimes, they’d head out to grab lunch from the bakery situated at the end of their street, and during the summer months, they’d head to the small park three blocks from their building for picnics in the sun. Outside of that though, their times were largely split between work and maintaining social lives in their friends' apartments, all of which were dotted throughout New York.

Thankfully, Chloe had planned ahead today. She’d brought one of the many sketch books she keeps close, slipping it into her bag before she left in case inspiration struck. She found an empty bench, content to sit and be for a while, and started making notes of the places around her that piqued her interest. There were a few restaurants that were bustling with life despite it only being 2pm, a bookshop that she knew she could easily spend hours lost in, and a small row of boutiques she thought Aubrey would like. It was incredible, Chloe mused, how much you can actually see if you simply choose to be in the moment. 

She’d ended up in the coffee shop a little while after. Content with not having a certain destination in mind, she’d landed upon the shop by chance. The smell of freshly ground coffee drawing her in like a moth to a flame. It’s not that she deemed herself above Starbucks or any of the other coffee chains, but Chloe always felt so much more inspired when she’d visit these independent units, awing at the amount of personality able to fit inside four walls. 

She couldn’t hide the smile that painted her features upon seeing the posters of independent artists, local concerts and various advertisements pinned to various specks of the bare bricked walls. It was these small touches that helped make a place feel welcoming to Chloe - signs that love was the motivation of these sorts of endeavours. Places like this that clearly centred itself in building communities and bonds, whether it be over a cup of cold brew, or through helping locals out by displaying their advertisements throughout the shop. 

Somehow, she’d landed herself the table directly in front of the window. A fact that elated the redhead to no ends, for it gave her a vantage point to lose herself in watching the world go by. One of the baristas offered to bring her coffee to her table, having seen how she kept throwing glances back to the table every other beat to ensure no one beat her to it as she ordered. She’d thrown him a grateful smile and slipped him a five dollar bill when he’d come over with her drink - a means of showing her gratitude. 

Once again grateful for having brought her sketchbook, she’d gotten comfortable in her seat, untangled her headphones and began doodling once she’d found a playlist that fit her mood, It was a playlist she’d made on a day in which the sun was setting in a way that painted her room in golden hues as she lay atop her sheets, mentally sorting through what she needed to prepare for the remainder of the week. Chloe couldn’t explain it, but the second she saw the colours of the sunset dancing across her wall, she’d felt compelled to find a way to capture how she felt in that moment. She knew she wouldn’t be able to capture it on page before the show of colours faded, so she’d pulled her Spotify app open and began curating a playlist filled with songs that filled her head to toe with the same contentment this current reality afforded her. It was a playlist she often reached for when she needed to lose herself for a while - not out of the need to run, rather to just allow her mind to still, and lose herself in the task at hand. 

Alternating between sipping her coffee, skipping songs that didn’t quite gel with her current mood, and hastily scribbling the sights as they presented themselves out the window, Chloe hadn’t even noticed when the stranger approached her. It was a wonder she didn’t spill her coffee across her sketchbook when the brunette waved a hand in front of her to get her attention. A flash of frustration swept through her, annoyed at the fact someone had pulled her out of the bubble she’d lost herself in, but that soon melted when she met the gaze that was staring down at her. The woman in front of her was clearly flustered, her gaze continually shifting between Chloe and the front door that was only a few steps away from them. They stayed in that silence for a moment or two, Chloe rearranging her space to ensure that her coffee was no longer in spilling distance of the open pages of her sketchbook.

‘Sorry,’ the brunette finally uttered. ‘Totally didn’t mean to scare you like that, I tried speaking but, well, you either couldn’t hear me over your music or you were silently hoping that if you ignored me long enough I’d go away...which is totally understandable by the way, I can like...go, if you need.’ Beca exhaled at last, mentally chastising herself for falling over her words so much. She was so far out of her comfort zone, and silently begged her brain to ensure she’d soon black this whole encounter out. Spared from reeling over it on nights where sleep avoided her. 

Chloe was sure she looked doe eyed right now, drinking in the sight before her. She found the women’s nerves endearing, and couldn’t bring herself to interrupt her rambling until she was sure she’d finished speaking. ‘Okay, that was a lot of words for one breath.’ Beca let out a strained laugh at that, clearly still torn between staying where she was or bolting for the door. ‘I wasn’t ignoring you though, I just tend to have my music blasting so loud I’m pretty sure I’ll be hard of hearing ten years earlier than I should be.’ Another laugh slipped from the brunette, which Chloe was thankful for. She could see the tension slowly slipping from her shoulders. ‘Did you need something?’ 

‘ _Oh!_ ’ Beca’s expression looked as though she’d just remembered she’d left the stove burning at home, or something equally as menacing. Chloe still couldn’t quite get a read on her. ‘Well, I’d hoped to find a table of my own but,’ Beca motioned to the floor behind them, all tables occupied. ‘I was gonna just leave, but I really wanted to like..challenge myself? To stay. Here. In the shop I mean.’ Beca was cringing at herself tenfold by this point, all conversational skills seemingly having escaped her. ‘The thought of solo dates or whatever terrifies me, so I guess I just wanted to see if I could actually enjoy a coffee on my own. Only, that kinda went to shit when there were no tables left. Anyway, you look like the friendliest, least likely to kidnap me person in here, so I just wanted to ask, would you mind if I shared your table? No pressure of course, like if you don’t want to it’s fi-’

Beca was cut off by Chloe raising her hand, signalling for her to stop talking. She didn't verbally respond to Beca’s request, opting to instead begin clearing some space on her table. She moved her coffee to the ledge beneath her table, content to grab it when she needed. ‘Of course I don’t mind! Come sit!’ Chloe’s warm demeanour finally helped Beca feel at ease. She made herself comfortable in the seat opposite the redhead, both of them not quite sure what to do next. Beca was sure the woman opposite her would simply put her headphones back in and go back to drawing. They sat in silence for a while, both choosing to look out at the life passing by the window. Beca could feel herself grow more comfortable with every passing minute, proud of herself for pushing forward in broadening the limits of her comfort zone. 

‘I’m Chloe, by the way.’ The sound of her voice pulled Beca from the daydreams she’d momentarily lost herself in.

‘Right,’ Beca flashed an apologetic smile, ‘I’m Beca.’ The brunette reached for her coffee cop, desperate to busy her hands. Though she was considerably calmer than she was as she approached Chloe, she still felt jittery. Some strange sense of guilt looming over her for interrupting Chloe’s flow of drawing. ‘Sorry for barging my way onto your table by the way, but thanks for letting me join. I appreciate it.’

‘Don’t be silly - there’s nothing to apologise for! I like meeting new people.’ Chloe’s face was that of a genuine sentiment. As though she was trying to silently convince Beca that she really hadn’t inconvenienced her in the way the brunette clearly believed she had. ‘Though, I have to ask. What was it about me specifically that deems me the least likely to kidnap you? For all you know, I’ve been plotting our getaway this entire time.’ Chloe’s smile turned into that of a playful manner, daring Beca to take the bait. 

‘Oh you know, families are a safe bet but I hate kids, so that took like, fifty percent of my options off the tables. The dude in the corner over there,’ Beca subtly motioned to the other corner of the room where, sure enough, a man was hunched over a laptop, typing furiously. ‘He looks like he’d know his way around the dark web. I just get a vibe.’

‘Again, what’s to say I don’t know my way around the dark web? We’re strangers on a first name basis right now. I could be anyone.’ 

‘Well, you seemed friendly. I...watched you? I guess? Not in a creepy way though, I swear.’ A shade of blush crept over Beca’s cheeks, clearly embarrassed by the way she was phrasing her reasoning. ‘What I’m trying to say is that I watched you for a minute, and you seemed so chill in just watching the world go by, so I thought that someone that calm probably hasn’t got any immediate grand murderous plans. I’m really hoping my hunch about that proves right.’

‘Don’t worry, none of my murderous plans involve pretty girls, so consider yourself safe.’ The blush that was only faint across Beca’s face was all but roaring at that comment, catching her off guard. This was everything Beca wasn’t - approaching strangers, engaging with them, being _flirted with_ by them. She liked it though - feeling as she was a different version of herself right now. 

‘Well, that’s a relief.’ She drew a mock sigh of relief. Her eyes casted down to Chloe’s sketchbook, still open on whatever it was she’d been working on prior to Beca’s arrival. ‘What were you drawing? You don’t have to tell me, I’m just curious.’ Chloe shook her head in dismissal of the idea of Beca overstepping, sliding the sketchbook across the small distance between them. Offering Beca to have a look for herself. The drawings that scattered the two pages were rough, but realistic. Sketches of faces that Beca could only assume had filtered by in an instant past the window. She recognised the row of shops across the street, all sketched out onto the pages. The drawings were incredible; Beca was no art critic, but she knew there had to be a market for sketches like these. Ones that somehow captured seemingly menial moments onto a page, declaring them to exist for a lifetime. 

‘You can look through it, if you want.’ Chloe offered, reaching down to grab her coffee from the ledge. She couldn’t pinpoint why, but something in her was yearning for Beca’s thoughts on her work. Something she never typically sought from anyone save Aubrey or some of her peers in the art department. She watched intently as Beca continued to sift through the pages, noting which ones in particular appeared to catch her attention. She lingered for a minute on the page showing what Beca assumed was a barman behind a counter. He had the cocktail shaker suspended in mid air, shaking whatever drink he was fixing at the time. She was overwhelmed with just how _real_ it looked - the small details like the branded bottles behind him, or the depth to the ice within the glass on the bar in front of him. The talent to capture such intricate details was something that never failed to render Beca speechless, and she felt overwhelmed with the need to endlessly praise Chloe’s talent. 

‘I drew that when I was in Milan,’ Chloe offered. ‘Me and my friends were out in the city centre for dinner, and there was this bar we ate at. We ate on the terrace, but the doors were open enough that you could see everything happening inside. I don’t know what it was, but the way that guy worked just captured my attention. He never stopped, you know? Like, he’d finish making one drink, and immediately move onto the next. All of them different, yet he made them with an easy confidence that I just _had_ to draw it.’

‘So what? You just took out your sketchbook in the middle of dinner?’ Beca’s tone was neutral, genuinely wanting to know more about how Chloe worked through her strikes of inspiration.

‘Pretty much. My friends all know I feel no qualms toward drawing whenever inspiration hits. I basically never go anywhere without a sketchbook. So I just grabbed it and started drawing. It didn’t take long, but I’m glad I did it. I think it’s one of my favourites in there.’ Chloe’s smile was soft, clearly happy in revisiting such a fond memory. 

‘It’s incredible, Chloe. You’re really fucking talented.’ This time, it was Chloe’s turn to blush. She tried to hide her face behind her coffee cup, but Beca just laughed at her sudden bashful demeanour. 

‘Thank you, I appreciate it. So, what do you do?’ Beca should’ve expected the question, but it was never a simple answer. There was always only so much she could divulge about her job, and people always wanted to know more than she was able to give. 

‘I’m a music producer. I make music.’ Chloe’s eyes lit up at this, clearly intrigued by this information

‘That’s so _cool!_ Have you worked with anyone I’d know?’ 

‘Well, that depends what your taste in music is like.’

‘Well, I really do like everything. I’d say my taste is quite eclectic - I’ll listen to anything once. I don’t like the idea of limiting myself to one specific genre.’

‘I like that.’ Beca flashed a coy smile, cogs clearly turning as she decided which artists Chloe may know. ‘I’ve worked with James Bay, Maggie Rogers, and The National. I’m working with someone notable at the minute, but I can’t say who.’

'That’s just teasing, Beca!’ The pair broke into an echo of laughter at that. Chloe understood contractual obligations likely were preventing Beca from revealing who she was working with, and didn’t want to make her feel uncomfortable by pushing for an answer. ‘That’s an awesome mix of artists though. I loved Maggie’s last album. - I think Past Life is one of my favourite songs, ever.’ Beca’s expression lit up at this, clearly overjoyed to know that Chloe was familiar with some of the work she’d helped create. 

‘Yeah, that song was a whirlwind to create. People don’t realise how much goes into making every song sound the way it does. It’s a _lot._ ’

‘I can imagine, but that’s so cool. I love that.’

✢✢

The pair continued talking through the afternoon. Somewhere along the line, Beca had bought them both another coffee each, alongside a pastry for them to share. Chloe told Beca about Goose, showing her endless streams of photoshoots she’d forced him into. Beca’s eyes lit up at one picture of him wearing a tartan bow-tie, assuring Chloe he looked like quite the gentleman. 

Beca told Chloe of her journey to becoming the producer she is today. How she’d always known that music production was what she was born to do since she understood it was something people actually _did._ It was easy - the conversation between them shifting from topics easily. Chloe’s presence calmed Beca; she was inviting in a way that made Beca forget she initially even felt guilty for asking to share her table. 

Neither were paying attention to the time, so both were understandably surprised to see that four hours had slipped from them. Though, neither were complaining. It was refreshing - the air between them felt familiar, and brand new all at once. Beca offered one more coffee, to which Chloe declined, citing she’d never be able to sleep if she had anymore caffeine. It was Chloe that excused herself eventually, though it wasn’t a willing decision. 

‘I’m so sorry to seem rude, but I have to go back to my place and feed Goose. He’ll start tearing up the apartment if I’m late feeding him and my roommate would kill us both if he touched any of her clothes.’ Beca couldn’t help but feel a pang of disappointment when their afternoon together drew to a close. It surprised her, how much she’d enjoyed Chloe’s company. How easily she’d slipped into a feeling of comfort around the redhead.

‘Dude, no, that’s totally understandable. Sorry for keeping you so long,’ Beca shifted, reaching to put her belongings that’d grown scattered across the table back in her bag. ‘Thank you though, for letting me sit with you. I really enjoyed this afternoon.’ She wasn’t sure what she was supposed to do next - the confidence that’d carried her to Chloe’s table to begin with suddenly having vanished.

‘Me too. Why don’t we do it again sometime? Give me your phone.’ Beca wordlessly handed her phone to Chloe, watching as she assumed Chloe saved her number to her contacts.

‘Text me whenever, and we’ll arrange something! I’m glad today happened, so thank you. I needed a change of scenery, and this was definitely it.’ Chloe rose, checking the table once over to ensure she’d grabbed everything. ‘I’ll see you around, Becs.’ She gave the brunettes shoulder a gentle squeeze before heading for the door. Beca remained seated for a while longer, digesting the events of the afternoon.

It certainly wasn’t how she’d envisioned her afternoon going, but she was endlessly grateful it transpired how it did. She couldn’t quite place it, but there was something about Chloe that assured Beca they were going to become friends. Something about Chloe that Beca couldn’t help but be drawn to. 

A feeling of contentment washed over her as she made her way to the subway. The idea of returning back over the East River to her place in Manhattan suddenly didn’t feel so daunting. Beca couldn’t be exactly sure why, but she felt significantly less alone in New York as she had when she’d awoken this morning.

✢✢

_here's a look into chloe's sketchbook, specifically the pages she was working on when beca approached her._

image drawn by Ray aka [@SapphicGraphix](https://www.instagram.com/sapphicgraphix/) on twitter!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i really hope you guys liked this! ive got the next few chapters planned out so hopefully will fall into a semi-decent upload schedule soon
> 
> pls leave kudos/comments if you feel so inclined, i'd love to hear your thoughts <3


	2. i know a place

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beca finds out the hard way she can't handle tequila like she could in her youth. Chloe grows accustomed to her own company. Both are biding their time before the inevitable text conversation sparks.

When agreeing to every project, there’s a certain mental routine Beca must take herself through prior to signing along any dotted lines. Taking herself away from the whirlwind energy trapped inside every office room of the studio’s building, she gives herself time to thoroughly consider every aspect the project has to offer. There’d be plentiful nights she forewent sleep, instead staying up ‘til the sweet hours of the early morning, delicately weighing up every possibility. Beca was never one to do anything half hearted; when she commits, she _commits._ She throws herself feet first into every project she embarks on, never feeling satisfied unless she’s giving 110%. As such, there is a lot of emotional weight that comes with such heartfelt commitments - for Beca, it’s not just about making music. It’s never been as simple as that. Instead, every song or record she enables to come alive has a story to tell. She’s always been drawn to the way in which artists are able to create an entire world within the expanse of a 15 song album. Compelled by the ways in which even the most painful memories can be transformed into something purposeful - something beautiful.

This time around is no different. Despite her head and heart both immediately agreeing the second Taylor’s management had gotten in touch, she knew that she needed to step back and assess exactly what it was she was getting into. She knew they were going to be working at a much shorter than average timeline, and as such, would likely end up sacrificing countless hours of sleep to ensure Taylor’s vision with the album comes alive exactly as intended. There would likely be little breathing room, and no room for mistakes. Though, Beca doesn’t believe in mistakes when it comes to creating music. She believes there are endless possibilities - some which work, some that don’t. Music is subjective, and whilst she knows not everyone can be catered to all the time, she strives to create things that can captivate as many people as possible. 

It’d gone 4am when she finally resigns herself to sleep for the night. She’d spent the evening dotting notes throughout her journal, taking into consideration a multitude of aspects that she’d never usually had to consider. Typically, albums were created over a considerable span of time. Ranging from anywhere between six months to a year. Beca was coming to know the multitude of influences from various executives throughout the record label hierarchy would often hinder production times, as everyone was always set on their opinion being the one that’s correct. There’d be time to properly sit and digest the songs throughout various stages of their creation - time to truly consider whether this was the desired sound, and if each song fit the wider vision of the album.

That was a typical production run, and this current deal was anything _but_ typical. As far as Beca was aware, Taylor intended on writing, producing and finishing the entire album process in under three months. Two months at best, three months at worst. It was going to be a fast paced labour of creativity - an experience Beca knew was likely going to be a once in a lifetime thing. In any typical album production, she’d be residing comfortably behind a mixing deck in a studio that had coffee on hand, was in the middle of New York, close to her apartment and everything she called home. This time around, she’d be going to a rural studio in Hudson, cooped up for however long it took to create the album. It was as daunting as it was exciting - Beca was overwhelmed by the concept of being so closed off from the world, but _god,_ she was ready for it. She’d been waiting her whole life for an opportunity as mind blowing as this to come around, and she wasn’t about to sacrifice it for anything. 

Content with the decision she’d come to, she was sure to shoot her manager an email, ensuring the opening line apologised for emailing him so late, or early, depending on how he chose to view 4am. It wasn’t until she’d closed her laptop and her room was finally sprung into natural darkness, did she realise how exhausted she actually was. Her body quickly felt heavy, leaden with the desperation to finally rest. Quietly, she made her way to the bathroom, ensuring she was as light on her feet as possible as to not wake Stacie. She underwent her nightly routine as quickly as she could muster, before finally falling into the welcoming embrace of her bed. Sleep fell over her quickly, and she slept soundly right through ‘till 11am. She wasn’t due at the studio until 2pm, thus had plenty of time to wake properly, and prepare herself for the day. 

✢

Adrenaline was coursing through her from the second she’d left her apartment. The journey to the studio was a short one, but Beca willed it to go faster. Today was arguably the biggest of her career to date - she’d officially dot the i’s and cross the t’s on the contract that bound her to the production of Taylor Swift’s newest album. Her body felt electric - as if she was standing on the tipping point of something monumental. It appeared as though her colleagues felt the same - she was greeted with a coffee without having to so much as ask as soon as she stepped into the building by an assistant, and everyone smiled at her as she passed them. That’s not to say her typical days at the studio were gloomy, rather, people were just never normally _this_ excited to see her. 

There was a bottle of scotch sat waiting for her on her desk, accompanied by a congratulations card littered with various messages from her colleagues that’d somehow become a second family along the way. Beca couldn’t repress her grin at the sight, if she wanted to. She knew how difficult this industry could be - how easy it was to unknowingly become surrounded by people who only waited for you to fall, but instead she’d landed herself a deal with a label that genuinely wanted to see her flourish, and grew through her career beside friends that rooted for her every success, and were there to comfort her through every fall. She knew her predicament was special, and was sure to savour every second of this feeling as a result. 

Her bubble was quickly burst by Jesse’s hollering approaching her office. She’d grown accustomed to hearing him before she saw him, often knowing when he was in the building by the echoing of his over-excited shouting coming from the other end of the floor. Picking up on her elation, he took no time in embracing Beca in a bone crushing hug, lifting her from the ground and spinning her once. She bit her tongue when her protests threatened to spill over, content to just let him celebrate her right now. 

‘Today’s the day Becs! How’d you feel?’ The smile on his face was akin to a kid at Christmas - Beca couldn’t help but find it endearing. 

‘Like you’ve just crushed each and every one of my ribs, so thanks for that.’ Her tone was playful, but Jesse feigned mock hurt across his expression regardless. 

‘Come _on_ Beca! This is fuckin’ huge! I’m allowed to celebrate you! Which explains the Scotch by the way - I don’t know much about Whiskey, but I know that bottle is probably more expensive than a month's rent on my apartment.’ 

‘Thanks Jesse, I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it.’ 

The pair fell into a comfortable silence - Beca going to bring her work computer to life, whilst Jesse occupied himself by sifting through the collection of CD’s on a shelf in her office. Moments like this were when Beca was most thankful for their friendship - Jesse had an easy presence about him, one that didn’t make her feel obliged to force conversation. Both were perfectly content to work alongside each other in silence, conveying everything they needed to in their body language. Beca had taken a while to warm to Jesse - initially put off by his ever-chipper demeanour. It wasn’t that she was still ridden with a general distaste towards people as she was during the peak of her teenage angst years, rather, she was weary around people that struck as though they required a lot of energy. Beca could be extroverted once she was comfortable around someone, but she struggled with the need to fill in the gaps others that constantly felt the need to be switched on created. It was why they worked so well; Jesse understood Beca’s need for silence, for calmness and let her lead most of the time. Working at a pace they both respected, both cheering each other on in their own ways.

Beca busied herself by replying to emails, trying to evade the nervousness that was creeping throughout her. Despite the fact today would only consist of signing contracts, she couldn’t help but feel slightly anxious at the road that lay ahead of her. Thankfully, she wasn’t given long to dwell on such thoughts - Cynthia-Rose knocked on the window of Beca’s office, informing her that the big bosses had arrived and were ready to get the show on the road. Beca took a steadying breath in, holding it for a moment before releasing it and the tension that’d gathered in her throughout the last half hour. 

‘Time to go become more of a superstar than you already are, short stuff.’ Cynthia-Rose quipped as her and Jesse followed Beca toward the top floor of the building. It was a space Beca was only becoming more familiar with - the floor in which all the business deals took place. She recalled the first time she’d been granted access to the top floor; the day in which she signed her first contract as a music producer. 

✢✢

_Beca was sure she was about to throw up at any moment - the nerves coursing through her showed no signs of ceasing, and no amount of pacing the brightly lit hallway felt as though it was going to ease the ache of anxiety in her chest. This was it - the moment she’d worked so hard toward. She was about to sign a deal with an actual record label. She hadn’t believed it when she’d initially been approached, having sent so many demos to any email address that struck her as vaguely associated with someone in the music industry, she’d become accustomed to the radio silence that followed. The day she’d gotten a response in the form of a succinct email stating they loved her sound, and wanted to know more about her, alongside a number to contact, she’d been sure it was a hoax. Some cruel phishing scam that’d found its way into the inbox of someone connected to the sentiment enough to allow herself to believe it for a second. Only, once she’d googled the email address, and found out it did in fact belong to an associate at a label she couldn’t even remember contacting - drowned in the plethora of emails with her best work to date attached residing in her sent box, she was sure it was all fake._

_Only, it hadn’t been. She’d waited an hour before dialling the number provided, desperately not wanting to come across as desperate, but responding timely enough that it’d suggest she was committed to this. From there, she found herself on a flight to New York a week later, awaiting meetings with various producers and associates she couldn’t remember the names of anymore. Her mother had cried the second she’d broken the news - a mixture of overwhelming pride, and overwhelming fear at the notion of her baby girl growing up and moving onto adventures that no longer required her living at home. Beca was never one to get ahead of herself - scarcely let herself imagine a future laced with success, but she knew this was going to be the start of the dreams she’d worked so hard for coming into fruition._

_‘Beca?’ A low toned voice called out for her across the hall, dragging her from the spiralling anxieties currently fogging her mind. ‘We’re ready for you.’ Beca let out a quick nod in recognition, not trusting her voice enough to actually speak. She was sure she’d either vomit or start crying if she tried._

_‘Don’t look so scared, Beca.’ Theo, the man she’d been liaising with from the beginning, offered. ‘All you need to do right now is sign your name and signature on some paper. That’s it.’ Beca was comforted by this - grateful that Theo wasn’t intent on making this pep talk to be about the fact it was the first day of the rest of her life, or some other cliched nonsense she definitely wasn’t equipped to handle right now. Following him into the office, she was met with faces she’d yet to recognise. She knew she’d spoken with one or two people in the room over the phone, but everyone she’d met prior to today wasn't in attendance._

_She’d been flying back and forth between New York and Atlanta for the last two months - always meeting with someone new, someone there solely to size her and her potential up. Every visit remained as daunting as the last, as she was expected to sit down and work with the sample tracks provided and make them into something sure to win general audiences over. Thankfully, she was yet to come across anyone that didn’t seem impressed with her talent. A few had nodded with quiet surprise, as though they weren’t expecting such abilities to come from a woman that was barely 22, with scarce professional experience. Theo initially didn’t believe her when she admitted that everything she knew about production, she’d taught herself. Beca passed on college - it was never an experience that called out to her. Instead, she’d worked various internships at various radio stations, desperate for any and all experience she could get her hands on. It was there that she began compiling mixes to send to various networking links provided by the people she’d grown accustomed to at the stations. They all believed in her - knew she was destined for a path larger than prime time Atlanta radio shows. They helped her believe in herself - it was a new experience, to be surrounded by people that genuinely wanted her to succeed, and could help her get there._

_Quickly seating herself at the centre of the large, polished table, Beca did her best not to black out from nerves. Theo was right, all she needed to do was sign her name a few times, but that didn’t lessen the connotations behind what today meant. A genuine record label was taking the chance on her - signing her for a three year deal that would see her produce a minimum of five albums, and whatever else presented itself in between. Theo sat to her left, with a woman whose features were enough to send Beca dizzy adorning her right side. As though knowing Beca’s brain was racing a mile a minute, the woman quickly introduced herself as Simone, stating she acted as an overseer of these sort of events. No further elaboration was offered, and Beca took that as a nod that things were ready to begin. She offered Beca a kind smile as the first set of papers were put in front of her. Signing them quickly, she willed her hands to keep from trembling, and before she knew it, champagne bottles were being popped as a cacophony of cheers surrounded her. A photographer Beca was certain hadn’t been present when she’d arrived made quick work of snapping various shots - Beca signing the last page, her being handed a champagne flute, Theo embracing her in genuine congrats. Moments that Beca will definitely want to look back on in years to come. Moments she was grateful were being captured._

_The evening following her contract signing had been spent with Stacie. She was studying in New York, and was more than happy to indulge in Beca’s invitation to celebrate with her. They’d been parked in a booth of an upscale bar for the last hour, Stacie demanding every single detail of the day. Beca offered them with enthusiasm, grateful she wasn’t ending the day alone in her hotel room._

_‘Wow... Beca Mitchell on the path to stardom. I can’t believe it! Except, I can. This was made for you Bec, and I’m so proud of you.’ Stacie toasted as Beca blushed furiously, still trying to navigate how to accept praise. The sentiment was only heightened by the fact both were considerably tipsy by this point. They’d ordered celebratory shots of Tequila as soon as they’d arrived, and had kept a steady flow of drinks coming to their booth._

_‘I wouldn’t go that far yet, Stace. It feels good though, like all the hard work is starting to pay off.’ Beca mused. She meant it - it finally did feel as though all the graveyard shifts at various internships and the nights she’d lost sleep to her insecurities of never being good enough were finally looking as though they were going to pay off._

✢✢

The room Beca and co were guided to hadn’t changed much since Beca’s initial contract signing day - the walls were laced with significantly more awards, but other than that, the decor remained consistent. It made Beca feel a bit more at ease; she was still chartering familiar territory. She could do this. 

She was met by a room full of businessmen - people she knew only bothered to show up when something big was happening. Any other time, they were quite happy to sit back and allow people lower down the corporate hierarchy take charge. They all greeted her in turn, and she accepted each congratulations gracefully. Thankfully, Jesse and CR never strayed far from her line of vision. They’d reserved themselves to a corner of the room, idly chatting between themselves, save for CR snapping the occasional not-so-subtle shot of Beca shaking hands with various men in suits. Theo was present too. They didn’t work together anymore - Beca having exceeded the labels expectations of pipelined success far earlier than anticipated saw her moving up the ranks quickly. He showed up as a friend, and Beca was grateful for that. 

‘Miss Mitchell?’ A voice broke from the crowd, everyone else quietning in response. ‘We’re ready when you are!’ 

Beca took a second to gather herself, reminding herself that this was just a formality and she needn’t be so scared. Once more, she found her seat at the centre of the table, and was presented with a considerably larger stack of paperwork than she had when she’d initially signed her contract. The contents of it remained mostly foreign to her - she was successful enough to warrant her own legal team who took care of endless strings of paper filled with legal jargon she’d never understand. All she knew was that she’d been chosen to embark on this project, and that was all she needed. 

‘Big day for you Mitchell,’ her manager quipped. The shit eating grin on his features softened the words - Beca knew he was proud of her. She’d often been deemed as his star find, and he’d always been sure to turn up to these sort of events as a result. 

‘Yeah, I’m still waiting for the other penny to drop,’ Beca returned in between signing on dotted lines.

‘There is no other penny to drop, this is your big break. You’ve earned it Beca, don’t forget that.’

‘Thanks Joel, I appreciate that.’

Eventually, the stack of papers reduced to zero and she was officially signed onto the production team. The details of the schedule were still being confirmed, so for now, Beca and her friends gathered in a small circle to pop their own bottles of Don Perignon and bask in the excitement for what lay ahead. A photographer was once again present - the telltale sound of photos being captured going off every few seconds, as though the guy was desperate to capture each and every moment as they presented themselves. Thankfully, Beca had grown to become more confident in front of cameras as her time in the industry progressed. Even went as far as posing ridiculously with Jesse, CR and Theo for a few shots, with a request to the photographer to email her them personally so she could keep them. 

✢

The night that followed was that of celebration - the label hosted a small gathering in a closed off part of a VIP bar in upstate New York to celebrate both Beca’s success, and the impending success of the label that was sure to come of this project. Everywhere Beca looked, she was surrounded by people she loved. People that’d nurtured her, helped her find her confidence, and remind her that she was here because she _deserved_ to be. The energy in the room was invigorating - alcohol was pouring steadily into everyone's glasses, music was blasting throughout the space and somewhere along the way, a make-shift karaoke set up had been established in the corner of the room. Only, it was less an actual karaoke set up, more a microphone accompanied by a speaker, encouraging the users to sing along with what was playing at the moment. Jesse had forced Beca to duet a questionable rendition of Elastic Heart as it came on the playlist, neither of them putting much effort into carrying the tune. Both choosing to favour the dramatics such a performance required, and she was certain at least ten people had video evidence of the performance on their phones. Not that she cared however - she was slowly coming to learn that having herself in her happiest forms captured wasn’t the worst thing. It was comforting, knowing she’d have these means to fall back on whenever she became nostalgic for particular moments. 

Somewhere along the progression of the evening, her mind filtered back to a few days prior. The day in which she’d lost herself amidst the heart of Brooklyn, specifically in a coffee shop with a red head that simply refused to leave her mind once she’d thought of her. She replayed various conversations in her head; how Chloe’s eyes had lit up at the mention of who Beca had worked with, the way in which she’d listened with intent as Beca told her various tales from the times she’d been working the late shifts at the radio. Beca’s favourite memory, something she concluded based on the fact it’d continually crept to the forefront of her mind several times throughout the last few days, was the vision of Chloe lost in her own world, content in sketching in life as it passed her by. It’d occurred during a lull in their conversation - Beca had had to attend to a stream of texts from Joel, who was insisting they had to close a few more deals before she left for the secluded studio. Seemingly content in simply being in Beca’s presence, Chloe had shut down her apologies of seeming rude, and had wordlessly gone back to her sketchbook as Beca meandered her way through the conversation. Beca hadn’t interrupted her once she’d wrapped up her conversation, something in her wanting to capture the vision before her whilst she could. Chloe’s gaze altered between the world outside the shop window and the pages of her sketchbook, her hands working hastily to capture inspiration as it struck. 

It was incredible, Beca thought, to see someone work so fluidly in an environment that could seem so overwhelming. Not wanting to read too much into it however, Beca quickly quelled the rising urge to question exactly _why_ she was feeling so intently toward the sight before her, and cleared her throat to suggest she was once again ready to continue talking. Chloe responded animatedly - her gaze meeting the brunettes with a warmth to them that made Beca feel as though her insides were short-circuiting. Chloe enquired about the texts, but not in a way that was pushing. She was asking out of politeness, and once it was wordlessly understood that Beca couldn’t divulge much about the subject of the messages that’d stolen her attention, Chloe simply diverted their talk to another topic. Specifically, Chloe questioned whether Beca enjoyed reading. It was then that they’d lost themselves down another rabbit hole; Beca listened intently as Chloe reeled off a list of her personal favourites, all with a few words added to explain exactly why each title was in her list of favourites. It was as charming as it was endearing. 

Catching herself, Beca took a second to compose herself. To will her brain to divert from that stream of thought. She’d been meaning to text Chloe since they’d parted ways, but the last few days had been a whirlwind. She’d hardly had time to remember to eat three meals a day, and as such, neglected to text her. Thankfully, she was still sober enough to know that texting her whilst several shots and vodka soda’s deep likely wouldn’t end well. Instead, she set a reminder on her phone to text Chloe at some point tomorrow. Not trusting her semi-functioning, inevitably hungover brain to remember much beyond ordering take-out, she thought this was the safest bet. Pleased with her rationale, she threw her phone back into the small clutch she’d brought out with her, and headed straight to the bar to get in on the round of shots CR was currently ordering. 

✢✢

Chloe returned home from her impromptu coffee date with someone that was barely still a stranger only fifteen minutes after she’d departed. Like clockwork, she was greeted by Goose circling her feet, crying dramatically to be fed. Chloe knew it’d happen, but it made her smile no less.

‘Miss me, Goosifer?’ The nickname had been coined early on in Chloe’s adoption of him, after a day in which he was determined to ruin as many of Aubrey’s clothes as possible. As though he was seeing how much he could get away with under the roommate that clearly was yet to warm to him. Chloe couldn’t bring herself to discipline him properly - her chastising raising barely above a regular tone. Instead, she’d apologised profusely to Aubrey, and promised to replace whatever was beyond repair. She’d scooped Goose into her arms shortly after, taking him to the safety of her room, begging him to start behaving, else Aubrey may no longer be so accommodating to their extra roommate. 

✢

Despite the fact she was more than capable of living alone, Chloe hated the silence that came with being the only one in the apartment. It wasn’t that she was incapable of being alone with her thoughts - quite the opposite in fact. She revelled in the times where her thoughts amalgamated in ways that had inspiration seeping from every pore of herself. It was those times where she’d lose herself amongst various sketch books and canvases, translating everything she envisioned in her brain onto her chosen medium. Her bedroom walls were littered with sketches held up by patterned washi-tape - the subjects of said sketches ranging. Some were faces she’d committed to memories, others were of various buildings she could see from beyond her bedroom window.

Her particular favourite however, was a drawing that came alive as a result of the latest fantasy novel she’d lost herself in. She’d been captured in the world created through the expanses of the pages, and turned her vision of the main character into a drawing. The woman was an elegant type of beautiful, though she bore sharp features. Eyes encapsulating a glare that could cut straight through you, curtained with a short, sharp bob of hair. Her frame was petite, but her stance was mighty. Chloe was overjoyed with how it’d turned out, and had gone as far as finding a suitable frame for it. It wasn’t that she was cocky about her work, but she knew that some pieces deserved to be put on display. It gave her bedroom a feel that was uniquely hers - created an energy that was solely her own. 

There was a sense of inspiration that always came with surveying the various drawings adorning her wall - a craving in her mind to continue creating works that perfectly encapsulated the flurry of visions in her brain. Never one to deny inspiration when it hit, Chloe made quick work of putting a record on play to suit her mood, before deciding which sketchbook to work in today. Her various moods and modes of creating were all broken down into various sketchbooks; some were specifically for ink sketches, others for charcoal and chalk. Beyond that, she had her inspirations broken down too - some books were reserved solely for ideas she’d create from scratch whereas others would accompany her on various adventures whenever she felt like capturing life as it passed her by. Today, she opted for a book containing pencil drawings of real life captures.

Despite the fact she had no plans to leave her apartment, there was a particular subject in mind she simply couldn’t shake. Something about Beca had struck a chord in Chloe’s mind; her features were so effortlessly beautiful, and though she would’ve never told Beca as such, she’d spent at least half an hour in the coffee shop committing her profile to memory, content in the knowledge that she’d be sketching it at a later date. The way her hands wrapped so perfectly around her coffee mug, as well as the tattoos Chloe was able to see inked throughout her body - it was all so inviting to Chloe. She swore that it was just appreciation from an artist's perspective, though the way she was hopelessly checking her phone every fifteen minutes, willing a text from Beca to be waiting for her, would suggest otherwise. 

✢✢

Chloe managed two hours uninterrupted of sketching, before Goose demanded attention. Unable to refuse him anything, she’d obliged with bountiful belly rubs and scratching behind his ears - the spots that made him purr most. She’d lost herself amidst her sketchbook pages, and before she knew it, the double page spread in front of her was littered with everything Beca. Two sketches of the way her hands cradled both mugs of coffee she’d had, two shots of Beca’s face - one being her profile that Chloe had taken in great joy in finally bringing to life in her book, and other utterances of things that just seemed so Beca. Once more, the red head assured herself it was all down to the fact Beca had struck an inspiration within her that’d perhaps been dormant for a while. Between the classes she taught Monday through Friday, ensuring she was looking after herself and spending time with her friends, Chloe rarely came across subjects that compelled her to lose herself in drawing the way Beca had seemingly achieved. Should she be questioned about it however, Chloe would swear blind it was all just artistic appreciation. 

By the time Goose seemed satisfied with the amount of attention he’d received, the afternoon was creeping closer to 4pm. Though still not adjusted to the silence that settled with Aubrey’s absence, Chloe shot the blonde a text to see how she was enjoying her trip. New Orleans was on Chloe’s bucket list, should she ever find herself with enough vacation days saved to take a proper trip somewhere that wasn’t during school holiday seasons. Whilst it’d pained her to turn down Aubrey’s invitation to accompany her, Chloe had desperately needed some time to herself. Time away from constantly thinking ahead to future lesson plans, or what her weekends held for her - time wherein she could exist solely for herself. Regardless of the reasonings behind her declining the invite, it didn’t revoke Chloe’s yearning to be with her best friend in a city she’d always dreamt of visiting. Thankfully, her and Aubrey had always been connected in a way that warranted them knowing how the other was feeling without any words needing to be exchanged - as if right on cue, her phone lit up with an incoming FaceTime call from the blonde.

Chloe’s face lit up when her best friend appeared on screen. Aubrey was visibly buzzed from whatever cocktails she’d been drinking throughout lunch, and Chloe couldn’t help but laugh at her obvious attempts to keep her words from slurring. Aubrey filled her in on everything she’d done in the few days she’d been away, gushing over the fact they both needed to visit next time, because it was somewhere Chloe was sure to fall in love with. Chloe promised her that the next time their schedules aligned, they’d go. No questions asked. Seemingly satisfied with that, Aubrey moved on and began questioning what Chloe had been up to in her absence. She told the blonde about her chance encounter with Beca; how she was a music producer, her quick wit and the way they could easily shift from topic to topic to a point where the conversation never felt forced. Aubrey’s interest piqued somewhere along the way, because her first question was whether or not they’d exchanged numbers. 

‘Well, I gave her mine.’ Chloe admitted, mindlessly doodling in the corner of a scrap piece of paper forgotten at her desk.

‘Why do I feel there’s a but coming?’ Aubrey questioned. Truly, nothing ever got past her.

‘She hasn’t text me yet. Which is fine! Really, it is. I’m just...a bit bummed I guess? It’s been like, three days and she still hasn’t text me. I guess I just thought she would’ve by now.’ Chloe couldn’t help but feel slightly deflated at the admission - it wasn’t as though she expected Beca to text her as soon as they parted ways, but she knew if the tables were turned, she likely would’ve initiated conversation that same evening. 

‘Oh Chloe,’ The redhead hated when she was met with this tone - she wasn’t one for pity, especially in circumstances such as this. ‘I’m sure she’ll text...you said she was a music producer? Right? She’s probably caught up with whatever it is they do! Producing music! You know, all that fun stuff! I can’t imagine the music industry is one to stick to a typical 9-5 schedule. Give her time, I’m sure she’ll reach out.’ Thankfully, Aubrey's advice was borderline comforting for once. A rare occurrence from a woman that was a firm believer in tough love. 

‘Maybe you’re right. Thanks, Bree.’

‘Always. Listen, I’ve got to go. I don’t know what I’m doing this evening, but the girls have something planned and I think I should probably go and sober up a bit before that rolls around. I love you Chlo, see you in a few days! Give Goose a cuddle from me!’ Chloe laughed at that, grateful for the fact Aubrey finally learnt to accept Goose into their family dynamic. 

✢

The evening rolled around gently - Chloe idled her time through losing herself in yet another rewatch of _Schitts Creek._ It was as mindless as it was comedic, a combination that could never fail in her books. Lighting a few candles throughout the living space, alongside the dialogue coming from the television accompanied by the occasional purring from Goose, she was content with the space she’d created. Resigning from thinking about work for at least another two days, Chloe was happily switched off to the outside world for the time being. Her phone was all but forgotten in her bedroom, opting to detox from the perilous scrolling of social media for as long as she could manage. Outside, the world was continuing steadily. She could hear the engines of cars rolling past her window, as well as the occasional laugher from the kids walking down the street. It was moments like these that Chloe savoured the quiet. It wasn’t silent in a way that demanded to be filled, rather, it was a sense of peace that allowed her to be switched off. Something that was rare for her these days. Not to mention, she revelled in the time she had to just cuddle up alongside Goose on the couch, safe from Aubrey complaining in protest at him shedding hair on the comforters strewn across the couch. 

Seemingly losing track of time, Chloe soon found herself face to face with the humbling ‘Are you still watching?’ notification on her screen. Taking this as good a time as any to put a pause on her binging, she made quick work of switching the tv off completely before temptation to remain in her position on the couch for the rest of the evening took over. Making quick work of blowing out the candles that remained burning, Chloe did a quick once over of the living room, discarding any rubbish that’d accumulated over the course of her evening, before ushering Goose to her bedroom. They settled quickly amongst the mountain of cushions atop Chloe’s bed - Goose cosying himself under his designated blanket. It had previously belonged to Chloe, but a few weeks into bringing him own, Goose had decided that was now in fact his. Not that she could be angry at him for such, especially when he looked as cute as he currently did nestled under the warmth of it. 

Drawing the curtains closed and opting for her room to be filled with the soft glows of the fairy lights hung from every expanse of her ceiling, Chloe settled quickly into bed following her evening routine. Her skincare routine was something she took great pride in, especially knowing how much it paid off. Her skin was clear more often than it wasn’t, and she knew she looked better for it. Her dark circles were kept to a minimum, even in weeks where sleep felt so foreign to her.

Finally, she reached for her phone. Not caring to check the notifications on her homescreen, she unlocked it and began checking various social media apps. Thankfully, she managed to pull away before she found herself in an endless cycle of scrolling, and instead went to check her messages. She shot her mom a quick goodnight text, alongside the promise to call her at some point this week. Aubrey had text her a few hours ago - relatively more sober than she had been when they’d facetimed, and adorned in a summer dress that Chloe knew she would _definitely_ be borrowing when the summer months finally graced New York. One unopened text thread in particular caught her attention - it was from an unknown number, and something in Chloe just _knew_ that it was Beca. Finally, she was reaching out. Thankfully, she’d text her over an hour ago, so Chloe didn’t feel obliged to wait before opening the messages so as to not come across too eager. 

  
  


**Beca [18:05]:**

Hey, it’s Beca. Sorry it took me a few days to text - life has been busy. 

Chloe’s smile radiated when she read the message - giddy over the fact Beca was finally reaching out. 

**Chloe [19:11]:**

Hey! Don’t worry about it. I get it. You okay?

She watched as the three dots signifying Beca’s impending response slowly rise then fall, as though Beca was debating how much to divulge. Chloe couldn’t help but feel like a besotted teenager at the way she was acting, something which she made a mental note to confront later. She’d spent half a day with Beca - they were still largely unfamiliar with each other, but Chloe couldn’t deny the butterflies that’d erupted the second she’d seen her text come through.

**Beca [19:13]:**

Yeah, I’m good. Just work has been crazy busy. Not to mention, I was painfully hungover...like...two day hangover bad. I’m finally back to top form though, thank god. 

**Chloe [19:16]:**

What was the occasion?! Don’t tell me I missed your birthday already…

**Beca [19:17]:**

No, not my birthday. That’s still months away, for the record. The label threw a celebratory party for the deal I just signed. I can never refuse Tequila. 

**Chloe [19:20]**

Beca! I never had you down for the party girl type! I’ll make a mental note of that. Congratulations on the deal! Whatever it is, I’m sure you’re gonna kill it.

**Beca [19:21]:**

And what exactly did you have me down as, Chloe? Thanks, it’s like, the biggest move of my career yet. I wish I could tell you about it, but top secret shit sadly needs to remain top secret for the foreseeable. 

Chloe smirked at Beca’s response - she knew she was playing her, daring her for an answer. She debated for a moment, wondering how best to navigate her response. 

**Chloe [19:24]**

Jury’s still out on that Becs, I just really didn’t have you down as a tequila slammer type of gal. That’s cool though. I’d just like to request that I'm first to know when you can talk about it!

**Beca [19:26]:**

Well, we’ll definitely be circling back to that. Request noted, can’t say I’ll cash in on it though. There’s a long line of people wanting to know all about my endeavours. Back of the line for you, Beale. 

Chloe couldn’t work out if Beca was flirting or if she was being serious - still unable to get a read on the girl. 

**Chloe [19:28]:**

You mean someone you shared coffee with for a few hours isn’t on the top of your priorities to share your success stories with? I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t hurt! Also, how did you know my surname? Have you been stalking me? Because I know you said that you worried that I might be the murderer, but...maybe I should be worried that you’re the stalker here…

**Beca [19:30]**

Don’t flatter yourself too much, your contact information came up as a suggestion when I text you. Thank Apple for stalking you, not me. I’m not a murderer. Not that you need to know of, anyway. 

**Beca [19:31]:**

I was thinking though, I really did enjoy the other day. I like your company. Would you want to do it again soon? It doesn’t have to be coffee - whatever you want. I’d just like to hang out again. 

**Chloe [19:32]:**

Well, as long as you don’t plan on murdering me if I agree, then yes, I’d love that. How’s your schedule looking this week? It’s my last few days of freedom before school starts back, so I’m free whenever. 

**Beca [19:35]:**

That sounds doable. We could do brunch on Saturday? I have a work thing Friday evening, but there will be considerably less tequila involved. I think brunch is probably the safest bet. 

**Chloe [19:38]**

Brunch sounds good to me! If you’re hungover, we can just carry on drinking. Or, if you’re still drunk, we can just carry on drinking. Regardless, brunch isn’t brunch without mimosas, so we will be drinking. 

**Beca [19:40]:**

Okay, you’ve sold me. I’ve got to get back to the studio, but I’ll text you later? I know a place I think you’d like. 

**Chloe [19:43]:**

Sounds great to me, I’ll trust your judgement. Speak soon. :) 

Chloe locked her phone and all but threw it to the other side of the bed. Her excitement was unwavered now - completely smitten by the fact someone she didn’t even know this time last week wanted to spend more time in her company. She knew that there came an essence of fun in the initial meeting of someone new, so reduced her feelings to that. She wasn’t going to get ahead of herself by any means. That wasn’t to say she wouldn’t spend the next few days willing the days to move fast, however. Something about Beca drew her toward her - a magnetic pull that Chloe wasn’t sure she’d experienced before. She wasn’t going to give it too much thought however, content with just seeing where this new adventure took her.

✢✢

_here's a look into the pages Chloe sketched of Beca._

This incredible work was drawn by Ray aka [@SapphicGraphix](https://www.instagram.com/sapphicgraphix/) on Twitter and Instagram!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank u for reading and i hope you enjoyed! i know i said i'd attempt to get into a more consistent uploading schedule but my job really takes it out of me, so fingers crossed it won't be toooooo long before the next update!
> 
> pls feel free to leave kudos / comments if you enjoyed. i'd love to hear your thoughts <3


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